


Picking Up the Pieces

by Flavato_Forever



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:42:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6664546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flavato_Forever/pseuds/Flavato_Forever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately after the events of 2x24. Toby drunkenly tries to track down Happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picking Up the Pieces

Toby lasted about half an hour after Walter left. Then, catalyzed by the mix of silence and sadness and tequila, he decided he couldn’t sit still any longer.

  
He stood up and immediately lost his balance; his hand grabbed for the table clumsily to steady himself. He was really too drunk to drive, but Paige, Tim, and Walter were all en route to Lake Tahoe. He reached in his pocket for his phone to call Cabe before remembering it had broken the night before, when Collins had taken him.

  
Getting kidnapped was not the worst thing that had happened to him in the last twenty-four hours. He almost laughed at the thought.

  
“Sly!” he called to the only other person in the garage.

  
The mathematician had been hiding in the kitchen; he came out gingerly.

  
“Yes?”

  
“I need you to drive me to Happy’s apartment.”

  
Sylvester’s eyes widened. “Um, Toby, I only have my learner’s permit.”

  
“So you need a licensed driver in the car.” Toby pointed to himself. “Guess what I am?”

  
Sylvester shook his head adamantly. “No way. It’s not safe.”

  
“Sly, as a doctor, I can assure you that you driving sober is one-hundred-percent safer than me driving drunk.”

  
It took another ten minutes of back-and-forth before Sylvester agreed to drive. Cabe had walked to Kovalsky’s for some dinner that no one would be hungry enough to eat, so they took his SUV. Sylvester drove painfully slowly, ignoring Toby’s snappish remarks comparing him to a grandma. By the time they pulled into Happy’s apartment complex’s parking lot, Toby had lost all semblance of patience.

  
He leapt out of the car and ran up to the building, taking the front steps two at a time. Both elevators in the lobby were broken, and he found himself thankful that he had to take the stairs; the exercise sobered him.

  
It wasn’t until after he knocked on Happy’s front door that he realized she might not be home. She could be anywhere – any bar, taking shots; any mechanic shop, hammering herself deaf; any windy road, speeding away from her pain.

  
A minute passed without any sound coming from inside the apartment. Toby was just starting to wonder if he should leave when he heard the slightest of sighs coming through the hallway wall.

  
_She was in there._

  
He knocked again, even though it was clear she wasn’t planning on opening the door for him.

  
“Happy!” he yelled. “Let me in. Please.”

  
Nothing.

  
“I know you’re in there, Happy.”

  
“Go away.” Her voice was quiet enough to barely reach him.

  
“I’m not just going to leave you alone, Happy.”

  
“I don’t want to talk to you.”

  
“I know, but I’m just going to keep standing here yelling until one of your neighbors calls the landlady, so I think it would be best if you just let me in.”

  
For a long time, silence. And then Toby heard muted shuffling, footsteps, a deadbolt turning. The door pulled back to reveal Happy’s face. Her eyes were puffy and red, her cheeks sticky with tears.

  
“Happy,” he breathed. He leaned in to hug her but she pulled back.

  
“What do you want?”

  
“I think you know what I want, Hap.”

  
She started to push the door closed but he slipped into her apartment before she had the chance.

  
“Happy, _talk to me_.”

  
She shook her head. “No – it’s not – I can’t-” The words were all jumbled. He glanced over and saw an open bottle of scotch on her coffee table, but no cup with it. She must have been as drunk as he was.

  
“Take a deep breath,” he prodded. She set her face into what might have been a look of defiance, if not for her trembling lip.

  
“It’s a long story.”

  
“I’m listening.”

  
She looked in his eyes, searching. He could guess what she found there – anger and hurt and confusion. He honestly didn’t think she’d tell him.

  
But then the words just started pouring out.

  
The story was messy and emotional and Toby’s drunk brain had trouble following it. When it was over, Happy looked at him again, tears back on her cheeks.

  
Toby was angry. He was angry that she was married and angry that she hadn’t told him until now and angry that he had to chase her across town to get her to talk. And he knew they’d have to deal with that, just like they’d have to deal with explaining everything to the rest of the team and tracking down her husband and getting an annulment.

  
But for now, he just hugged Happy tight and tried to start forgiving her.


End file.
